


Just a Nightmare

by NotALemon



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Death Wish, Depression, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Self-Hatred, like it's really angsty, like really dark depression, lots of sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotALemon/pseuds/NotALemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war came. It came and he was left beaten. So he left with a heavy heart and a guilty conscious, hoping it was just a nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Regenerated From Necessity

Blood. 

Blood and death. He can smell the iron. Can almost taste it. God, it’s so bitter.

This isn’t right. This isn’t where he’s supposed to be. He’s in the wrong place.

The clothes he’s wearing don’t match this. They don’t match him. The new him.

They’re too happy. Too bright. It was painful. If it weren’t his life, he’d say it was ironic.

But it was his life. He had to deal with it. Had to deal with his own mistakes.

Trying to run away had been ignorant. He had been young. Stupid. 900 or so years and he hadn’t learnt a thing. Running doesn’t solve anything. It can’t.

The war had caught up with him. It had beaten him to a pulp.

And now he was different. More serious. 

He knew that what he did was right. 

It still didn’t sit well.

He stood.

It was the only thing he could do. No, not the only thing.

The best thing.

He could die. Yeah. He’d love to die. 

But no. He couldn’t. He was the last. If he died, they died.

He couldn’t die.

So he took a step forward.

His legs were shaky. But he limped to his only escape.

He threw his hand on the door. Steadying himself. His fingers lingered on the key. With a sigh, he turned it and limped in.

Time for better clothes. Time to forget. Time to run away. For good, this time. He couldn’t come back.

He couldn’t forget.

The only thing he could do was find clothes that fit him better.

Not just his dark mood. His body. This new body.

Regenerated from necessity.

He closed the door behind him.

New clothes. A new adventure.

He decided to dress himself after he slept a while. Maybe, when he woke up, it would all just be a nightmare.

If it wasn’t, he would look for a new adventure. Maybe a new companion.

As soon as he woke up.


	2. So Very Tired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He woke to find the nightmare was still his life. So he ate and clothed himself appropriately.

It took him longer than he thought to wake up.

The first thing he noticed was the overwhelming weight on his shoulders. He had done it. It was all his fault. And he couldn’t do anything about it. 

The second thing he noticed was that he was hungry. Starving. Desperate for food.

He sighed. Maybe, if he didn’t eat, he would die. He would die and never regenerate. That would be nice.

He’d get some sort of relief from this nightmare.

Nightmare…

So it had happened. He knew it was real. He knew it. Why else would he be sleeping? Why else would he be so tired, so hungry?

He found the kitchen. 

There was food in it. Not a lot. Just enough in the fridge to look at and sigh at the options. Nothing he wanted to eat. He could tell.

In the end, he settled on a banana.

It tasted better than anything he’d eaten in a long time. It was wonderful. He decided to eat more bananas. Decided bananas were good. Great. Amazing.

He wasn’t feeling as bad after eating. Sure, the weight was still there, but it didn’t feel like it would crush him at any second. It felt just a little lighter.

The next matter was getting dressed.

What would go best with the darker personality?

A darker outfit.

Jeans. A black leather jacket. A dark jumper. Dark shoes. 

He didn’t look in the mirror. He refused to look at himself. He didn’t want to see the monster he’d become. 

He was still tired. So very tired. He didn’t think all of it was from the regeneration. Some of it was from the war. 

Most of it was.

With a sigh, he went to look to see if there was anything going on on Earth. 

His favorite planet. 

It wasn’t gone. Not yet. 

He stopped himself before he looked.

No. 

Not yet.

He wasn’t ready for this. He needed some time to heal. 

So he went back to sleep. Fully dressed, though he kicked off his shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was painful to write. So I wrote it all last night.  
> Guess who's exhausted.


	3. His Only Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He left. He didn't want to, but he had to.

He woke up again. 

Maybe he didn’t want to wake up then. Maybe he never wanted to wake up. Maybe it was the nightmares. Maybe he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

He felt the tears dripping from his eyes before he could stop them.

He needed to get away from there. 

So he left. For good. 

He ignored everything screaming at him to stay. He couldn’t stay. It hurt too much. 

His home was destroyed. Everyone he loved was dead. Or worse. He had nowhere to go but away. Far away. 

And he went far away. 

It was all his fault. All of it. If he had stayed, maybe he would’ve died too. Like his family. His friend. Did he even have more than one friend back home? 

He shook his head and stopped somewhere. He wasn’t sure where. It was far away from his home. No, his old home.

This was home. His only home.

It had always been his home. 

He sat down by the console and broke down. Again.

And that was it.

He fell asleep against the console.


	4. Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He remembered the fire. The fire that ate his planet. And he wished it had eaten him.

This time, he woke after burning. Burning to death. Hearing the screams of his people and not being able to help.

He woke covered in a cold sweat. 

Why'd couldn't he have burnt too?

He stood and stretched out his stiff limbs. They were his newest regret. Hell, he should get a tattoo or something. One more regret, just for the road. To add to the thousands of regrets he already has.

Wouldn’t that be great?

He wandered around for a while. Not much had changed.

Besides him.

He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Honestly. Maybe something from better times. Maybe it was nothing.

The TARDIS knew what he needed, because he ended up in his bedroom again. He didn’t know how long it had been. It felt like a long time.

It could’ve been ten minutes.

It could’ve been ten hours. 

Time didn’t matter to him anymore. 

Nothing mattered. Not anymore. 

Not since the fire devoured his planet.


	5. Every Miserable Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He suffered on a schedule. Until he broke it and found a light in the darkness.

That was his routine for a while. It was definitely at least three weeks. Maybe. Probably.

He’d wander around. He’d end up at his bedroom. And he’d cry himself to sleep.

It was pathetic, but what else was he supposed to do? It wasn’t like he had anyone to talk to. His companions were better off without him. He didn’t even have K-9. 

All he had was the TARDIS. And his thoughts.

He went on every miserable day. 

Most of the time he was asleep.

He slept more than he had slept in years. Maybe in his life. And he was alright with it. It was just fine.

Until he finally decided to do something. 

He got up one day and wandered to the console. He looked for something- anything- he could do. There just so happened to be something in London.

Ah, London. One of his favorite places ever. Except maybe the Medusa Cascade. 

But he could go there later. 

He went to see what was wrong. Obviously. It’s what he does. Even though he was in pain, he had to save them.

And he met her. 

The light in his suffocating darkness. A Rose in a garden of weeds. 

She helped him through his pain. Knowingly or not.

He promised to himself that he’d never lose her. 

He'd rather die protecting her than live without her.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried out a new writing style. Not sure if I like it or not.


End file.
